Page 203 of Bridesmaid By Chance
HUDSON
“Sloane, please stay.” I’m begging. Pleading. So fucking sick to my stomach over what I’ve done to her.
How I’ve neglected her.
This is so much worse than I thought it would be.
You fucking idiot.
“See you at the venue,” she says as she shuts the door, leaving me in the hotel alone, just like I did to her.
I drop down to the couch and push my hands through my hair, frustrated with myself, because that’s the only person I can be frustrated with.
The moment I read through her texts, I knew I fucked up. But her not even talking to me, letting me apologize, this is a level of anger I didn’t see coming.
A level of anger I rightfully deserve.
And the fact that Jude knows and I wasn’t here for her. Sick. I feel fucking sick.
He’s known for a while, but the question is how long? Can’t be any longer ago than when he was asking questions about Sloane in my office, unless that was all an act.
I think back to that day and how casual and surprised he was that his sister was in London.
No, there’s no way he acted like he didn’t know. He would have come into the office snarling. So he found out after that day, question is, how and what the hell is going through his head?
I grab my phone from my pocket and check the time. I hate that Sloane is heading off to the wedding by herself, but I need to figure some things out.
It’s early over in California, but I’m going to need Hardy to wake up. Ipress his name and put the phone on speaker. It rings and rings and rings until his voicemail picks up.
Not going to do.
I call again.
And again.
Until on the fourth time, he answers the phone with a gravelly voice. “What?”
“I need you to wake the fuck up, man. Jude knows.”
There’s silence, then shuffling.
“Everything okay?” I hear Everly say in the background.
“Yeah, babe. Go back to sleep,” Hardy says. Then more silence until, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Dude, I fucked up.”
“Why does that seem to be a recurring theme with you?”
“I don’t need the sarcasm, man. I hurt Sloane.”
“Christ,” he mumbles. “What did I say about all of this?”
“I know, okay. I fucking know. I’m an asshole. I thought I was doing the right thing and I wasn’t, and I just got back to London, where Sloane informed me that Jude knows.”
“What? For how fucking long?” Now he’s sounding more awake.
“She wouldn’t give me details. She won’t talk to me. I, uh, I’ve really fucked things up with her.”
